


Rock Bottom (Only Up From Here)

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [112]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Low Self Esteem, Sam feels like a failure, Stanford Era, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, failing a class, low self worth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's failing his stats class...he's a failure at just about everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Bottom (Only Up From Here)

**Author's Note:**

> This is another piece from Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings: This deals with suicide--Sam attempts, and is hospitalized. He has terrible self-esteem and is extremely down on his abilities and his future. It's Stanford era.

Sam’s failing his Stats class. He needs to pass this, both for his GPA and to graduate in general, and he’s failing this class.

He’s going to fail out of college. Dad and Dean will be right, he can’t hack this, he isn’t meant to hack this, he’s a failure not equipped for this type of civilian life.

He’ll have to go running back to them, only he won’t even be able to find them, and the whole thing will just be embarrassing and humiliating.

He wasn’t suited to that life, either. He’s not suited to anywhere. The feeling of hopelessness washes over him, despondency hitting him hard.

He’s a failure at just about everything. 

He’s drinking. He shouldn’t be, he knows it, but it’s the Winchester way of dealing with emotions, and he’s giving it the old college try. 

Perhaps that’s the wrong word choice.

So he’s drunk and he’s upset and he has easy access to weapons, because some habits don’t die easily.

Some part of Sam’s brain still knows how to do damage. He grabs the knife he keeps under his pillow, takes a second to ascertain a target, and pushes it into his skin.

* * *

Sam wakes up in a hospital, because he has a roommate that came home, as he should have known, and would have, if he weren’t drunk off his ass. 

It just creates more problems. Dozens more, really. Psych evals. Mandatory therapy, discussions with the school. Hospital counselors. Apparent attempts to contact next-of-kin and questions as to why they couldn’t.

Sam wants to cry sometimes, overwhelmed, trapped.

Not even good at killing himself.

On his fourth day in the hospital, he wakes up from an uneasy nap to find someone sitting in the uncomfortable bedside chair that has remained mostly unoccupied since his arrival.

It’s his Stats TA, holding a big textbook and her notes.

“You missed class,” she says.

Sam closes his eyes. “Think I can produce a doctor’s note.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I–I wanna help you stay caught up. Help you out. If you’re up for some Stats, we can go through what you’ve missed now.”

Sam flushes. “It’s not worth it. I’m too far behind to catch up. I can’t keep up.”

“Bullshit,” she says vehemently. “If you can get into the class, you can take it. We can catch you up, Sam.”

Sam snorts.

“It’s true,” she says persistently. “Let me prove it, okay? Let me give it a try. I’ll work with you, we’ll get you caught up. Give it a try. What’ve you got to lose?”

Not much further down to go, Sam thinks, so he nods.

She grins. “Great. When do you want to start?”


End file.
